GOING HOM H l R train left fro111 Pennsylvania Station at ten o'clock. Mrs. Carey had suggested that she wait and take an earlY-1110rning train, hut Evelyn felt that she didn't want to o " s ' O f I ' h d waste a mInute. eem s I can t ar- I 0 0 ,,, h O d y walt to get gOIn, s e sal . "But you won't get to vVashington until sometime in the 111iddle of the night," Mrs. Carey said. "Yes, 1\;1 a' am," Evelyn agreecL "That train don't get in till around t\\'o. '-' i\nd the train for Atlanta don't go for a '--' couple of hours after that." "Goodness!" 1\;lrs. Carey exclaimed. "}T ou'll have to sit in the station all that time! \Vell, find a nice, cOl11fortable seat and try and get a little sleep." The CJrevs ate an carly dinner the night Evelyn left. It was only eight- thirty when she finished th dishes. She untied the 111inute organdie apron she wore to serve dinner and slipped off her smart hlack uniform. Her dark-red crêpe dress, freshly pressed, hung over the back of a chair. .:\fter she put her uniform away in the hr00111 closet, she stood for a minute in her slip, smooth- ing her ar111S with her hands in an ecstasy of anticipation. The palms of her hands looked al1110st white against the soft dark hrown of her ar111S. She fingered the '-' creamy lace of the slip that l\ílrs. Carey had given her for a going-away present and straightened the seams of the stock- ings which covered her slender, pretty legs. The red crêpe was becol11ing. She had. paid twelve dollars for it, almost a week's pay, and it emphasized the shin- ing whiteness of her teeth and the warm brown of her skin. She opened her suit- case and took out a comb and brush, part of the set that LeRoy had given her for Christ111as. The suitcase smelled of lilac, and it was filled with a few clothes, neatly folded, and a dozen or so s111all packages-gifts for Mary, Auntie, old NIrs. Valentine, and the kids. She brushed her hair back from her face until it shone and combed the ends in crisp curls all over her head. She picked up her pearl-button earrings, which lay on the window sill, and screwed the111 onto the lobes of her ears. The kitchen window was open. She could see out across the rooftops of the four-story private houses to Central Park and the dark, unruffled water of the reservoir. The lights fro111 the apart- ment houses on Central Park West were reflected in the water, and the street lamps brought out the pale green of the leaves. She could hear the m umed hum of cars passing endlessly through the Park. She turned back to the kitchen. It was clean and quiet. The yellow walls were soft in the electric light, and an alarm clock ticked away on top of the vyhite enamel refrigerator.' She took a pencil and paper from the table drawer and wrote, "0 pint heavy cream & 1 qt milk," and slipped it into the top of a 111ilk bottle that stood on the drain board of the sink. Then, closing her bag, she carried it into the hall. I-Ier coat and hat were in the hall closet, and she put the111 on. Her hat was tiny and was 111ade of white gardenias. After a last look at her- self in the hall mirror, she went to the door of the living room and stood there sh y I y . NIr. and Mrs. Carey were listening to the radio, but when NIrs. Carey saw her, she got up quickly and turned the radio down. "Why, Evelyn," she said, "how nice you look!" "Mrs. Carey," she said, "I feel nice." "vVell, Evelyn"-Mr. Carey stood up and felt in his pocket- "here. Get yourself s0111ething to eat on the train." He walked over and handed her a fivc- dollar bill. " 01 M C ' " 1 . I " M 1 , r. . s 1 e sal ( . r. Carey, you didn't need to go and do that. " "Now, that's to spend, Evelyn. rI'o spend on yourself." Mrs. Carey smiled and held out her hand. "Goodbye," she said. "And if you get held up a day or so, just drop 111e a postal and let us know, so we won't worry about you." "I wrote out the note for the 111ilk- man. But I didn't put out the bottle yet.. It don't look very pretty in the hall." "I'll put it out later," Mrs. Carey_ told her. "Goodbye, Mr. Carey," Evelyn said. :p. $ r1L .i 1 '5 "I told Nancy to take real good care of you while I'm gone.." "\\T e'll be all right.." She looked down at the floor and giggled. "Nancy ain't bad, but she ain't d o I " goo , nelt ler. ccrrhat's a fine thing to be telling us at the last minute!" Mr. Carey said jovially. 'They followed her to the hall and said fina] goodbyes on a note of hilarity. Dan, the hoy on the service elevator, asked her if she wanted a taxi, and she laughed at this subtle jest. "Now, don't you let any folks go ringing that door- bell until my friend C0111es in the 1110rn- ing," she said. "1\;1r. Carey don't like to answer the doorbeU the first thing." She took a key from her bag and handed it to hinl. cc,.A,nd don't forget to see she g-cts that. She'll be here at seven '-: . sharp. " "Look out she don't get your joh away from you," Dan said. "How long . b ..." you gOIng to e away r " A k " wee. "A lot of things can happen in a \veek. " O tT'r in the street, Evelyn hurried toward Fifth Avenue. Waiting for the lights to change, she wondered if Nancy would have sense enough to re- member about Mrs. Carey's pineapple juice in the morning. Mrs. Carey was reducing and didn't eat a regular break- fast. She crossed over to the bus stop and stood hum111ing to herself. It was a warm night and the benches along the Park were filled with people. Police dogs and Airedales walked sedately by with their masters, and Scotties and fox ter- riers pulled and choked on their leashes. Every seat on the top of the bus was taken, but she found a place by an open win dow downstairs. She rested her feet on her suitcase and took a dime from her bag. She looked at her neat kid gloves and re111e111bered how she had looked when she first ca111e to New York almost seven years before. She hadn't owned a pair of gloves then and her hands had been rough, with broken, cracked nails. She thought of the Careys' small, pretty apartment and of her own room on 146th Street near Convent A venue. It was a big room that faced on the street, and in the SU111111er eve- nings she sat by the window looking out, drinking a bottle of Cdta-Cola through a straw. The room was plain, but it was clean and had a washbasin in one cor- ner. She could have her friends up, too, because of the day bed, which made it